


Licentious

by HappyBlueInk



Category: Red Canyon (2008)
Genre: AU, F/M, Walking Dead Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 02:57:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyBlueInk/pseuds/HappyBlueInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off a prompt for Mac's Girls tumblr page. Basically: Your character is walking down a deserted road in the middle of the zombie apocalypse when an old, red truck pulls up next to them and stops. I thought, well I'm not great at making OC's so I'll just make a generic girl for him to have fun with. This was the result. Be gentle. I've never written anything like this before, not to mention I had just woke up and saw the prompt, which spurred this— this weird one-shot. Hope y'all enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Licentious

**Author's Note:**

> Also: I own nothing in regards to Red Canyon. All rights belong to the copyright holder.

He was perfect for this world. This kind of shit he had been groomed and made for. He could fuck an' kill and kill an' fuck all he pleased, in no particular order. He was good at fucking, damned good at it.

The killing part had partially been an accident. Sort of.

The dumb cunt he had picked up earlier had started screaming, thrashing in her binds when she had come to. She had been walking alongside the road after her obvious advances at the Luna Mesa when he had crept up alongside her in his dingy red pickup. She had willingly climbed in chattering a storm about some stupid news story she had heard going around the country. Somethin' bout dead people gettin' back up and ripping people to shreds. He had knocked her out cold shortly after; her yammerin' had been driving him nuts and he just wanted her to shut her fuckin' mouth. He cared more about the other uses her mouth was good for than breathing words into the cab.

She had woken up slowly realizing where and what had happened to her. Then that curdling shriek left her lips and it riled him up sending that primal urge in his gut ebbing down and through his body, but being that this world was shittier than before— he had to do it. Those dead freaks would hear her and then that could be it for his little operation. He couldn't afford to have some stupid slut that couldn't keep her hands off his dick causing a ruckus that would get him killed. He'd seen them. She wasn't just talking for the sake of talkin' back in his truck. She'd been lookin' for a place to hide out from them dead freaks wanderin' about the canyons. He'd seen some people with their throats ripped clean of their necks, guts spilling out of their bodies walkin' about the roads, intestines dragging, getting caught in shit. They seemed to like the noise of his truck putterin' on down the road so he had shut her mouth for her, gagged her till he had made it into the safety of the cave.

Dumb bitch had been asking for it with the way she had sashayed over to him in the Luna Mesa, her thin nailed hands slipping into his jumper and beneath his boxers. He liked shit like that. He gave her a grunt in approval feigning the notion that she was in control of the situation. It made his dick hard when bitches took charge like that thinking they were all brave and shit, only to have them come find that they never really were in control in the first place. It was only their shitty little fruity drinks peppered on their breath that gave them such audacity. Until he got to them— that was when they realized how fucking stupid and pathetic they had been that they shouldn't have let him in; shouldn't have let him get close. The way they would revert to scared little chickenshits made him fuck them harder, yank fistfuls of their hair as he growled, "dirty little whore" into their ears. They usually cried and it did something to him that made him all the more wanton in his thrusts.

The thought sent a sudden ache and urge at his groin and he wished she hadn't been screaming so he could grab chunks of her hair, yanking it hard so she cried out and he could just fuck the shit out of her till she couldn't take anymore. He wished he could have pounded that pussy hard before she had started screaming, let him feel her body squirm beneath him. He would have given her something to really scream and cry about had she not tried alerting the dead assholes that they were in the depths of the cave.

Hell, he could still very well have his way with her, but there would be no fun in just fucking a dead body. He wanted them alive so he could feel the rush of blood against his skin, their bodies quivering against the ripples of pleasure they were tryin' to deny. He loved that inner conflict when he fucked them like that. Their minds were all stuck on stupid tryin' to act like they didn't like his dick in them, but their bodies thrashing and bucking under him enjoying their instinctual desire to fuck and be fucked made it all the more intoxicating.

She would have been a fine piece of ass to fuck. He didn't want to have to shut her up; not when he hadn't gotten to officially play with his new toy. He had just peeled the wrapper off the box when he had gotten distracted with a noise that echoed from within the inner workings of the cave. Sounded like low moanin' and shufflin', shit fallin' all over the place. She had woken up at that point, realizing she was bound, her clothes partially ripped from her body, tits splayed for him to get a good eyeful. He played coy smirking through his rotting teeth as she quieted down at his return but only so he could get close enough for her spit to make land against his cheek. He had brought his hand across her face.

A loud cracking noise bouncing off the cave walls. That was for her rudeness and when she didn't shut her fuckin' mouth again with her incessant screaming, he'd taken hold of that supple neck he wanted to run his tongue along biting deep into its flesh, his calloused rough fingers twined through her thick sweaty hair. It was over in a few seconds as he harshly grasped a fistful of scalp and twisted her neck with a single snap and her voice stopped, eyes wide in terror. He liked that expression, loved when they were unsuspecting and finally came to the realiziation what was happenin' until it was too late and they couldn't do a damned thing to stop him. They never could.

Yeah he was made for this shit-stain of a world—

But that did not prepare him for when the stupid bitch had started movin' around in her binds several hours later, hissin' and snappin' at him. He had never seen such a thing before. He'd killed her. He was sure of it. Snapped that pretty fuckin' neck of hers and watched as her body went all rag-doll on the mattress, void of that life he had wanted to fuck and sully. Her eyes though— that had given her away. They had been either brown or green, he wasn't sure from the liquor that had been coursing through his veins, but they were dark in color, could barely even see the pupil if he recalled correctly. Hearing the groans coming from the thin mattress at the floor of his hovel, he'd caught glimmers of murky pale gray eyes staring back at him almost mirroring his own.

It freaked him out when he could visibly see the bones he had broken protruding through the skin like a bulbous foreign blemish trying its best to get free of its prison. She'd started growlin', writhin' about trying to get loose, head slightly resting on her shoulder as it lolled about on her neck. He may have been some piece of shit druggie, but he paid attention to the things goin' on in the world. Had to. He'd heard the broadcast. It had to be the head.

He shrugged knowing he couldn't just have this crazy bitch twistin' and twitchin' like a damned fool in his cave when he had better things to do: sluts to fuck and drugs to push, if that was even an option now in this new fucked up world. This shit was gonna be a problem and it had already taken the fun out of fucking. He rummaged through one of the tool chests, finding an old rusted crowbar. He flipped it over in his hands, admiring it for a second. He slunk over to the foot of the dirtied mattress, approaching the dead bitch.

He paced slightly trying to get a better angle at her crop of messy hair. He watched her buck and struggle with her binds, titties flopping about her chest. She had somehow managed to get to her knees and was tryin' to push herself forward towards him. He could hear the sounds of her shoulders poppin' out of their sockets, probably bones breakin' with the way the arm looked like some twisted piece of skin and meat.

The noise made him cringe and he studied the way it moved, teeth grinding and clicking with each deft snap of its jaws. The more he stared at the stiff mounds of flesh on her or 'its' chest, the more he realized how fucking disgusting it was he was gazing at a reanimated dead slut— not to mention the cunt wanted to rip his throat out. He scowled at the dead thing wrigglin' about with its protuberance of broken bones and dislodged sockets, his lip curling up. In one quick motion he brought the crowbar up and slammed it into her head, a sickening gushing sound echoing off the walls of the cave as the noise died down and all that could be heard was his own heavy panting.

He watched as her body quit moving and she fell silent, mouth hung open in an ugly snarl. Bits of bone and gore clung to the crowbar as he removed it from her bashed in skull, wiping his face of the flecks of blood that had splattered. He glared at her limpness before spitting at her and giving her body a good kick with his heavy boots.

"Fuckin' dumb cunt. Just the way ya should be— on yer fuckin' knees." He growled at the dead bitch's still corpse.

It was a damn shame he had to kill her. He could have had loads of fun with this whore and that feistiness that had attracted him to the conquest in the first place. But now he had to leave. That dumb bitch had alerted every fuckin' shambling asshole straight to him and there was nothin' he could do about it, but leave the cave and get the fuck out while he could. He had to leave the zip and get the hell to his pickup. Fuck it. He could always make more.

He made a grab for his 'to-go' bag if he ever had time to ditch the cave and leave in a bust, which often was never in his favor anyway, but he had time now. He slung it over his shoulder and made a dash towards the exit to the cave and jumping into his pickup. He jammed his keys into the ignition, revved its engine to life and took off down the dusty road swervin' out of the way of shambling dead people clamberin' for his truck.

He smirked a little to himself, hand rubbing at the scruff on his chin. He'd fuck this world. He'd fuck it good and hard, make it his bitch. He was made for this world.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading and please review!


End file.
